Rain

© 2014 by Christopher Clymer Kurtz

I was one of the kind,
One of the type that tries and tries
To be larger than life, all the time.

My light was on, I shined it bright,
Torching up the Book of Life;
Dazzled everyone; yeah, I was wise.

I was drawing another line,
Finger in the sand, saying who was right
And who was wrong, but those lines are gone
In the rain.

I had stripes and banners to fly,
Hot fire engine ax to grind,
Little smokescreen shadows in my mind.

But it got loud inside my head,
Ashes on my daily bread,
When black and white both fell apart to gray.

Sinking in the guilty pleasure
of my ready pointing fingers.
Mirror, mirror, playing double;
Rain and sand: so good; such trouble.

I was pumped but things turned around,
Stones destined to throw, back on the ground.
I had my case sewn up and watertight,
But the sand shifted in the rain.
I was drawing another line,
Finger in the sand, saying who was right
And who was wrong, but those lines are gone
In the rain.